


Heir Apparent Blue Epilogue

by BlackenedThorne (BlueThorne)



Series: Heir Apparent [4]
Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, M/M, Nero Isn't Related AU, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2019-06-15 07:19:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15407859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueThorne/pseuds/BlackenedThorne
Summary: Vergil and Nero find themselves somewhat blackmailed into a marriage both for political gains and for Sparda's enjoyment. Their feelings for each other are complicated at best and murderous at worst, so things can only go well.An alternate pairing epilogue for Heir Apparent. Helps to have read the main fic first, but not necessarily required.





	Heir Apparent Blue Epilogue

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this one in the request list for a while, but I was finally spurred into finishing it because I got an angry message about how I'm gross for shipping incest. This isn't really incest, but I really had to write something, so here we are.

Some rule existed about not seeing your bride in her dress before the wedding ceremony. It was bad luck or some such nonsense.

But Nero wasn’t a bride, and he wasn’t wearing a dress, so I didn’t see how it mattered.

“Nero!” I rapped on his door with one hand, the other already on the handle. “Are you ready yet? I’d rather like to have this ceremony over and done with as soon as possible.”

“I’m working on it!” he snapped. A year in a general’s position hadn’t done his manners any favors. He was still as brash as ever, though all his gravitas fell away to furious stuttering when I pushed open the door. Not until I shut the door behind me did he find a coherent thought. “You’re not supposed to be in here.”

“Why not?”

“I’m getting dressed.”

I blinked down at his state - fully clothed except the cravat being crushed in his glowing claws. “I don’t see the issue,” I said. “Finish up, then. We’re to be starting soon.”

Beneath furrowed brows, his eyes flicked over my dress as well. Father had splurged on fabrics from Fortuna’s sea trade, and the silks were a bit much. I could have done without all the purple accents as well. Father had been insistent, whining about how he’d gone through so much to see me in some nice wedding attire, so I decided to just give in and bear it for a day.

“You look good,” he grumbled more out of ingrained politeness than genuine thought.

“As do you.” Yanking the cravat from his hand, I set to work tying it into place. He turned his face away, cheeks bleeding from pink to a burning red. He did look good, honestly. He was back in his gleaming Fortuna white as provided by his king.

That was as close to a blessing as we could get from Credo. No matter how much we needed to do this, it was apparent that he loathed the idea from the way he’d arrived with is arm hooked with Nero’s as though the ceremony had already begun. Several hours passed before he let Nero out of reach, and that was only on Nero’s biting insistence.

I couldn’t say I was any happier with the plot. Just because it was our best option didn’t mean I had to like it. Marrying Nero of all people was an insult. He wasn’t even true royalty despite what the people of Fortuna still believed.

But they loved him regardless of the truth, and they would do anything for him. They would even stop their scuffles along our border if we had him hostage by marriage.

Nero and Credo understood this as well as I did.

Of course, it was Father’s damn idea. He could talk about the “good of the kingdoms” all he wanted, but I knew him better than that. He just wanted to see a wedding.

What a pain.

As I finished tucking the cravat into place, I felt Nero trembling beneath my fingers. His eyes burned as though the war had moved within them. “Are you afraid of something?” I asked, and he startled at my words in an easy answer.

“No!” he lied, always obstinate.

“Is it the ceremony? You’ll be instructed on everything you need to say and do, so I think even you can manage it without mishaps.”

His smile was like a dog baring its teeth. “You know when we’re married, if I kill you, I get the kingdom.”

“Certainly, but then you’ll be married off to Dante to replace me.” I leaned over him, locking our eyes. His gaze blazed with the fury of a challenge. “And first you would have to kill me,” I said. “I would love to see you try.”

As powerful as his arm was, the blue flash signaled its intent all too readily, and I was able to catch his fist before it could connect with my jaw. “You won’t be getting away with that one again,” I said.

“Guess I wouldn’t want to ruin my betrothed's pretty face right before our wedding,” he snarled.

Things were going well so far. A match made in Hell.

Father said I should try to be nice, and perhaps I should have, but I didn’t agree to the wedding for the sake of our borders. We were within our rights to retaliate. That would have been my first choice. Unfortunately, I did not have final say in such matters.

Not yet.

Once Nero and I were married, Father had sworn to turn the kingdom over to me. Nero was just a means to an end. An angry, stubborn means to an end.

“Why must I marry him of all people to earn what’s already rightfully mine?” I’d demanded as Father continued eating as though he’d said nothing out of the ordinary. He blinked at my anger until he was finished chewing his food.

“You need a second opinion, especially when it comes to Fortuna,” he said, wagging his fork at me. “While I love you and know you to be intelligent, you can be a bit too rash, Son.”

“And you think _Nero_ makes for a good second opinion? The boy who has tried to kill all of us on multiple occasions?”

Father shrugged. “Would you rather marry Credo?”

Crossing my arms, I leaned back in my seat. Sometimes Father could miss the forest for the trees. “And reign over his kingdom as well? Certainly. But he would never agree to something like that. He knows better. A truce may be possible, but trying to join the kingdoms in totality would be catastrophic. The Fortunans are too proud.”

“As are the Capulets.” Father smiled like I was still a child arguing with Dante over trivialities. “You often see only one side of an issue, and not only will Nero make for a second opinion, but he will be stubborn enough to face you when he believes he should. That is what I believe you need.”

I could summon nothing but dry irritation. “I have Dante for that.”

“Well, yes, but your brother is…” Judging from Father’s troubled expression, he was holding himself back from saying “stupid,” but it was obvious. They were both idiots at times. “He has his own issues when it comes to diplomacy, and honestly, it’s hard enough to keep him at the castle for more than a few minutes at a time. Besides, I’d quite like to see a wedding.”

If he’d wanted a wedding so badly, he should have just given someone to Dante. Nero would have worked there just as well, and Dante had an unfathomable fondness for the boy. When my brother heard the news of my betrothal, I expected some sort of upset, jealousy perhaps. After the surprise wore off, however, he doubled over with laughter.

“Really!? Holy fuck! That’s beautiful,” he howled. “I can’t wait to see it. The kid is going to start a brawl in the middle of his own wedding.”

I hoped not. Perhaps, to that end, antagonizing Nero wasn’t the best idea. As I loosened my grip on his hand, he wrenched it free and turned away. With his shoulders bunched up with tension, his demonic energy bubbled like an over-boiling pot of water. He’d learned to better contain his power, but pushing him was still a dangerous game.

“Alright, I’ll behave,” I admitted. “Let’s not have any casualties at our wedding. Save it for when Dante gets married to some unfortunate soul.”

Nero heaved a sigh that didn’t ease the worry from his features. “Are you really sure about this?” He sounded so odd without anger in his voice, far too honest and fragile.

“Yes,” I said. “Why would you agree to it if you weren’t?”

Sighing again, he rubbed his hand across his brow. “You’d marry someone you hate just to get your throne?”

“Yes, but I don’t hate you.”

His head jerked up, eyes wide.

“Is that really so surprising?” I asked. “I would have thought you’d known better. Didn’t you ask me not long after we met? ‘Do you hate your family?’” I still thought of the question at times. I would never have thought myself to appear that cruel on the outside. But Father and Dante knew me well enough to understand that I could never hate them, not completely, no matter how much I may have wanted to at times.  

“I’m not your family,” Nero said, still frowning as he glanced me over from the corners of his eyes like I was hiding something.

“No, but you’re about to be, and then we’ll have to make do.”

His shoulders drooped, and he set to grumbling. “You have a weird way of showing that you don’t hate people.”

“And you dodge questions.” Reaching out, I took a light grip of his chin and turned him to face me. He burned several shades redder but did not pull away. Strange. “So tell me. Why did you agree to this? I’m not convinced it was for the sake of the minor scuffles on the border. There were other solutions.”

“Maybe I liked the idea of being able to tell you off for being an ass whenever I need to.”

A smile tugged at the corner of my lips. “Is that right? You like to imagine you’ll have power over me. How quaint.”

“Maybe I will!”

I leaned closer, but he still did not back away. I had to admit, I liked that about him. Few outside my family stood up to me unwavering. “We do need to pretend that we like each other for the ceremony,” I said just above a whisper. “So make sure you put on a good show.”

Despite the cruel intentions of his smirk, I could see genuine humor in his eyes. “I’ll try not to bite you during our kiss, but I’m not making any promises.”

“Oh, right, do be careful.” Pulling back, I eased my demeanor. “I suppose you’re not experienced in that area.” Truthfully, neither was I. The time I had to make him take the antidote did not count.

“Yeah,” he grumbled. “That whole business with the poison doesn’t count.”

I was surprised to know that we were on the same page there. “It counted to you when you wanted to punch me,” I said.

Though he tried to hide it behind his hand, he snorted with genuine amusement. “You deserved it.”

“Do we need to practice?” I asked.

“Practice what? Getting along? I don’t think any amount of practice will save us.”

Fair point. I would have preferred not to have to say this aloud. My traitorous ears burned in spite of my efforts to sound casual. “No, do we need to practice the kiss?”

Nero’s brows shot up. “Are you asking to kiss me?”

“Only for our mutual benefit.”

His brow furrowed, his eyes rolling up to trace his thoughts. “Is there another reason to kiss someone?”

“You know what I mean,” I said with a hiss. “It’s a matter of making sure we don’t mess this up in front of a crowd.”

“I wasn’t going to mess it up.”

“You just said-”

“I said I was going to try not to bite you. But if you need the practice…” Crossing his arms, he huffed and turned his face away in an effort to hide his renewed blush. “I guess we can try.”

When he didn’t move, I took a step toward him. “Very well.” Another step. “It doesn’t have to be anything unnecessary.” A third step, and I was right in front of him again. I found it different this time. Every detail in his face was more notable, dark lashes and pale lips dry from the icy weather. This was more discomforting than I’d envisioned. “Just-” My eyes darted away against my will. “-something quick.”

I didn’t move. I was certain of it, so he must have. His lips pressed to mine, chaste and hesitant as the trembling hand that brushed my jaw. Just as I realized what he’d done, he started to pull back. I grabbed his cravat and dragged him back. He had to finish what he’d started. No backing down now. Warmth burned from his face, and a pulse of his demonic power showed his stress with the situation. I let go of the reins on my own power to smother his into silence. Or, at least, that was what I told myself.

His flared up like a roaring fire in response, and I felt teeth against my lower lip. The demonic claws traced through the hair at the back of my neck as he pushed me closer. He made a sound somewhere between a hum and a growl.

Nero was a young demon with no sexual experience, so his sudden interest shouldn’t have been surprising. While it wasn’t… unpleasant, right before our wedding, when we were already in our best clothes, wasn’t the appropriate time. Releasing his cravat, I shoved my hand up against his chin, knocking his head back. “That’s enough,” I said. “You were supposed to not bite me, as you’ll recall.”

Nero stared at the ceiling, his lips pressed together. We were still posed in that awkward position when Dante crashed through the door. “Hey! No killing each other until the ceremony, or the reception if you’re feeling really nice.”

His gaze caught my lips, and he cocked a brow. I was quick to release Nero so that I could hide my mouth behind my hand. The little demon must have left a mark. I was lucky I healed quick enough that the evidence would be gone soon.

“Well,” Dante said with the sort of smirk that made me want to throw him out the nearest window. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but Dad’s getting all antsy. It’s time to get this show going.”

“Yes.” Nero spoke without an ounce of inflection, his expression void as well. “Let’s get this over with.” Dante moved so Nero wouldn’t bowl him over in his rush to leave.

“Don’t say anything,” I muttered as I started after him.

Like my demands had ever stopped Dante and his grinning. He fell into step at my side while Nero darted off to get himself lost in the castle. “So.” Dante tilted his head. “Can’t even wait until after the wedding? Pretty shameful, Verge.”

“I’ll cut your throat if it keeps you silent for even a few seconds.”

“And get blood on your nice clothes? That would be a shame.”

It would have been worth it, but I decided that I took enough enjoyment from watching my brother tug at every hem of his formal clothes. He might have looked striking in them if he could have managed to walk without looking like he wanted to burn his shoes in a pyre.

After we tracked down Nero who stood puzzled at a dead-end hall, Dante hooked his arm with Nero’s and dragged him down toward the throne room. Nero’s heels dug in as we reached the double doors, so Dante let him stay put. “I’ll go tell Dad we can start,” Dante said before leaving us both there alone.

Organization in planning events was not my father’s strong suit.

“How are you faring?” I asked Nero.

His pallor matched his hair, and his arms were stock straight at his sides. “I’m going to throw up.”

“Please, not before we have to kiss.”

If he looked so stressed for the entirety of the ceremony, the visiting Fortunans would think we’d blackmailed him into it. Perhaps Father had and Nero was just too proud to admit it.

“Nero,” I said. “It’s going to be fine. You just have to repeat some words.”

He seemed to puff up like a startled cat. “And then I have to _kiss you_ again.”

“Just once more. We needn’t make a habit of it.”

“In front of people,” he hissed. “Why does it have to be in front of people?”

“You’d prefer we were alone?”

“Yes!”

I shrugged. “Then I suppose we can make a habit of it if you want.”

“What?”

Credo appeared, the dog always at heel. He looked even more ill than his charge and fretted over Nero so much that the boy began grumbling. Annoyance fit Nero better than fear, at least.

Father intercepted me in turn, giving one of his usual pep-talks of, “Please do not kill anyone, would you, Son? Especially not your betrothed.”

“And please do not embarrass me,” I said in return.

“I make no promises.”

“Then neither do I.”

Despite everyone’s best attempts - Dante’s snickering, Father’s beaming, Credo’s stricken horror, and Nero looking close to passing out at any moment - the ceremony went fine. The kiss was awkward, more awkward than before, but that stemmed more from Nero trying too hard and knocking our foreheads together.

Father managed to smack a hand over Dante’s mouth to keep him from howling with laughter.  

“Sorry,” Nero whispered as he pulled back, his face aflame.

“At least you seemed eager. Everyone will certainly think you’re invested in me. I’m starting to be convinced myself.”

A smile alight with fury crossed his features, and the heel of his boot cracked down onto my toes. I struggled to hold a placid expression as something snapped in my foot. “Oops,” Nero hissed.

“Be careful, _Your Highness_ ,” I said. “We’re not even to the reception, and you’re already playing the drunk?”

“Yes, the reception!” Father cut in. “Why don’t we skip to that?”

I would have preferred to skip the reception altogether, actually. “Was this really all you were after?” I asked Father after I finally allowed him a dance to keep him from drinking and moping all night.

He hummed along to the music as we spun around the dance floor, a grin on his face that suggested this had all been according to plan. “Well, I aim to dance with Nero as well,” he said. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“I do not.” But Nero might have had some strong words on the matter. When I glanced over, I found him still sitting by Credo, patting the king’s shoulder as Credo buried his face in his hands.

“You should dance with him as well,” Father said. “Good for appearances. It would seem odd for the new couple not to.”

Reasonable as that sounded, I found myself at the end of a line. Father danced with Nero as he said he would, and Dante cut in after that. Nero’s mood went from sour to rotten at whatever Dante kept leaning in to whisper to him. I thought of cutting in myself, but Nero seemed to be doing fine on his own with how often he kicked Dante in the shins. My brother just laughed through his wincing.

Credo took Nero’s hand next, at which point I decided my new husband was just being difficult and likely wanted some time away from me. If he wanted nothing to do with me, it seemed as good of an opportunity as any to eat dinner and let the others have their fun, but Dante appeared, leaning over my seat.

“You didn’t ask your husband to dance,” he said.

“Nor did he ask me. What does it matter? He seemed preoccupied.”

“Oh, come on, even I know this one.” Dante dropped into the chair next to me, kicking his feet up on the table right next to my food. “The one with lower rank isn’t supposed to ask, and even if he’s married to a king, that only makes Nero a prince. He's below you.”

Yes, and I did like the sound of that. 

I shoved Dante's feet away, but this, unfortunately, did not unbalance him. “Nero wouldn’t have wanted to dance with me,” I said with a shrug. “It would have simply been convenient for appearances.”

“Please, that kid wants you so bad that he gets all red when I imitate you.”

My fork froze halfway up to my mouth. “Stop imitating me,” I said, though that was the least troubling thing about his statement. “Nero does not ‘want’ me. He cannot stand to be near me for more than a minute.”

Dante snorted. “I didn’t say he liked you. But look at him, Verge.”

I did, finding him sitting at a table beside Credo once more. His face was down on the tabletop, and now Credo was the one patting his shoulder and trying to reason with him. The more I remembered that I was now married to him, the less thrilled I was, so I shoved a bite of food in my mouth to keep quiet.

“Vergil,” Dante pressed. “He’s got it bad for you. He wants you to fuck him.”

The food caught in my throat, leaving me a coughing mess. Dante was cackling as he smacked a hand between my shoulders. The castle had been so nice and quiet when he’d been in Fortuna. Now, I had both him and Nero back. Great.

I hated few things more than the obnoxious parties my father and brother enjoyed so much, so as soon as everyone started to become drunk on Capulet ale, I made my escape. They were unlikely to notice my absence, so caught up in their own revelries, and I just needed to be away from all the noise and people. They were exhausting.

When I opened the door to my library, I startled at the sight of a lone occupant - Nero. He jumped as well before settling into a scowl. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

“This is my library. What are you doing here?”

“Hiding.”

“Fair enough. As am I. ”

Perhaps he was stealthier than I was because I hadn’t noticed him leave the party before me. Sitting in front of my chess board, he had his legs tucked up under his chin and his cravat untied once more, several of the buttons under it undone. “You didn’t ask me to dance,” he said.

“Someone else always had your hand. Would you have wanted me to cut in?”

His eyes darted to their corners. “Maybe. I mean, when it was Dante, yeah.”

“My brother is a nuisance at times.”

Silence settled between us like a barrier. I could never seem to find a proper pace with Nero. We could only banter for so long before things fell apart. I felt as though neither of us really knew how to hold a casual conversation. We weren’t much of a married couple.

He was the one to shatter the silence. “Why did you avoid me the whole reception?”  

“I didn’t.” Well, not intentionally. “I believed you would approach me if you required something.”

Dropping his forehead to his knees, he sighed. “You don’t like me, do you, Vergil?”

“I…” My brow furrowed as I struggled to grasp an answer. “I am uncertain what I feel toward you, Nero, but don’t you dislike me?”

“I don’t know.”

At least we could agree on something for once.

“There is one thing I can say for certain,” I decided. Nero raised his head enough for me to see his eyes. “You’re in my seat.”

“What!? There’s another seat right there.” He tossed an arm out toward the chair across from him.

“Yes, but that’s the side for black. That’s yours. White goes first. It is mine. Therefore, you’re in my seat.” As I approached him, I already knew he wasn’t going to move. He was far too stubborn, and I’d presented him with a challenge. Luckily, I had an easy fix.

“Hey!” he barked as I grabbed his arm and yanked him from the seat. Using the shift in weight, I spun us on my heel before pulling him back as I took my seat. For all his fury, he froze and silenced as soon as I had him in my arms. He sat across my lap, his hands pulled in with the stiff discomfort of someone who wasn’t sure what to do.

“I thought I might try something,” I admitted. “Call it curiosity.” I had a feeling that I liked this, having him there close, in my arms, at my mercy. I had a feeling I would have liked it even more had he been on his knees in front of me. As I leaned in to his exposed neck, he shivered, and I knew with certainty that I loved this. “I think I’ll enjoy having you be mine, Your Highness,” I murmured against his throat before placing a careful bite to his skin.

“Not yours,” he said despite a lustful weight in his voice, his claws curling into my coat. “You don’t own me.”

“Maybe not.” I let a demonic growl tinge my words, and the air grew heavy with power. “But I’m going to. Remember, I’ll be your king. You should refer to me as such.”

He laughed in a dark breath as his own demonic power reared up to face me. It would be easy enough to bring under control, but I did enjoy the challenge. “Don’t count on it,” he said.

It was still difficult to say whether I liked him, but I _wanted_ him, and perhaps that was enough for now.

I could learn to like him later.

He needed to learn his place first.

“I think it will be rather fitting once I get you on your knees,” I said. “You are supposed to kneel for me.”

He laughed again before nipping at my ear. A shock of pleasure tore through me. His words were a purr along my skin. “Oh, but wouldn’t I like to see you on yours, Your Majesty.”

**Author's Note:**

> Terrible boys.


End file.
